


It's a kind of magic

by Valkiriana



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Idiots in Love, M/M, Magical Realism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:28:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24069628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valkiriana/pseuds/Valkiriana
Summary: Hongjoong has always been a little magical. Seonghwa just pretends not to notice.
Relationships: Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 21
Kudos: 198





	It's a kind of magic

**Author's Note:**

> I accidentally poured my heart into this  
> (Para Lis, con mucho amor)

To say Hongjoong is one lucky man is the overstatement of the year. Scratch that. The decade. In fact, it is so well known that Hongjoong is the luckiest man on earth, that several local newspapers have reached out to him for a note or two.

Kim Hongjoong, the fortunate, some dramatic ass reporter would write, detailing with absurd levels of passion how it was the fifth week in a row that Hongjoong would buy scratchers and win.

Eventually, the shop owner just refused to sell him any more of those, offering him a lollipop instead when a 15 years old Hongjoong would blatantly pout at him.

It’s been years now, and some of his friends still ask Hongjoong to buy a lottery ticket for them when they’re short on money. Most of the times it works.

Nobody thinks much about it anymore. Hongjoong himself gives it little to no importance, and will vehemently deny having such luck when someone presses the issue, absentmindedly bringing it back into the conversation.

Seonghwa has long learnt that Hongjoong doesn’t like it when someone mentions his exceptional luck, or even call it that.

“It’s like they think my life is easy because I won the lottery a couple of times.” Hongjoong confessed to him once after classes, when they took the bus together.

Seonghwa loved taking the bus with Hongjoong. The moment the other arrived to the bus stop, said transport would, without fail, arrive just in time for him to get on - empty too.

Seonghwa also loved when Hongjoong would share an earphone with him, and they’d spend the whole ride listening to the other’s exceptional taste in music. He enjoyed stealing little glances when his classmate was too distracted to notice, and would cherish those times when the afternoon light would illuminate Hongjoong’s face so that he looked blessed by heaven itself. To Seonghwa, he was. Still is.

Truth is, Hongjoong has always been a little magical. Seonghwa just pretends not to notice. For the sake of their friendship, of course.

They met in high school, when the both of them were a little uncomfortable with their own bodies, a little awkward in their skins, eager to grow, but reluctant to do so at times; like they still didn’t have a clue of how to get rid of the little boys in themselves who found kissing gross and maybe, perhaps, still thought about the word “cooties” when girls came too close for their liking.

The scratchers were far from the first hint Seonghwa noticed about the strange things that surrounded Hongjoong. If someone asked him, Seonghwa wouldn’t be able to point out exactly when was the first time that his mind went “Oh, that’s weird”. But he can confidently say that once he spotted certain things, the rest became obvious soon enough. It’s become sort of a game now, even after all those years, Seonghwa still enjoys finding out the little details that make Hongjoong, frankly, a little magical.

He’s counted 54 so far. And the list expands each month. Or week, depending on how observant Seonghwa is.

This one, for example, he has discovered that Hongjoong is never the one who runs out of toilet paper. Not once in the three years they have lived together has Hongjoong had the disgrace of running out of toilet paper and hence lose his dignity to Seonghwa by yelling at him to bring him more. Seonghwa, on the other side, has not been so lucky…

It’s not like he doesn’t care, quite the opposite, really. But Seonghwa values their relationship way too much to mention something that might upset Hongjoong the way this particular topic does. Eventually, Seonghwa’s gotten used to it, and it’s like his brain just accepted it and stopped trying to come up with logical reasons that might explain why things just simply work for him. It’s just that...

Kim Hongjoong is a little magical.

And Seonghwa loves him that way.

What Seonghwa does remember, though, is how baffled he was that one day that rained so hard after school, part of their neighbourhood flooded and Seonghwa had to run, drenched, towards the bus stop. Hongjoong, however, set one foot out the door and the rain suddenly stopped, as if by… well, magic.

Seonghwa quite literally gaped at him in disbelief - envy, maybe?- for a whole minute before he connected the dots. This was far from the first time something like this happened. Seonghwa couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was then, but little by little, he did.

It was the small details that drew his attention. Like his earphones. Hongjoong’s earphones never tangled in his pocket. Which was beyond weird, not because they were a cheap brand with a thin, very tangleable wire, but because Hongjoong had little to no care for them, just like he had for pretty much all material things.

Hongjoong has always been a messy eater, and yet, during lunch period, when they would eat together at the cafeteria and Hongjoong would drop sauce on himself, it never stained. A little wet rub and the stain was gone, shirt as good as new.

It enraged Seonghwa.

Because Hongjoong was - and still is- the very picture of perfection. His face is perfectly symmetrical, with big, warm eyes, a pretty, devastating smile that Seonghwa feels should be on every toothpaste commercial ever - Seriously, has anyone seen his smile? Boy’s the joy of every dentist!

But it wasn’t just that what used to drive Seonghwa up the walls with envy. His body was a perfect harmony of curves and straight lines, the soft definition of muscles curving his otherwise unmarred skin. Because of course Hongjoong doesn’t know what a scar is, skin smooth like one of those blessed souls that have never experienced what having a pimple feels like (Seonghwa even doubts he has pores at this point).

Even more so, during their teenage years, Hongjoong would pride himself on his edginess, and he would dye his hair every colour under the sun. Yet, whereas Seonghwa’s scalp suffered for months after one bleach, Hongjoong would bleach and dye, bleach and dye, over and over again, without his hair losing shine, density or its smooth texture.

Their height difference was the only thing that comforted Seonghwa during those days where envy consumed him all, his teenage insecurity getting the worst of him.

It wasn’t until Seonghwa joined the dance club, body filling out nicely, his defined jaw and cheekbones, deep eyes and charming personality earning him quite the attention among his classmates that he realized that no, it wasn’t envy. Because what he felt when Hongjoong’s honey warm eyes met his was deeper, and more soul-shaking than any sort of envy he could ever feel.

Seonghwa didn’t want to be Hongjoong. He wanted him for himself.

Once he made peace with that fact, Seonghwa stopped hating on every little ability, luck, or magic tricks Hongjoong had under his sleeve. If said things were intentional even. Sometimes Seonghwa wondered if Hongjoong was as unaware of them as the rest of the world.

High school and teenage awkward years went by way too quickly for Seonghwa’s memory to be able to recapitulate. There are few things he can accurately describe, or pinpoint or chronologically reorder in his head. He can certainly say, though, that as Hongjoong grew, so did his luck, until one day, luck wasn’t enough anymore to accurately describe what the other carried around with him.

Winning scratchers, untangled earphones, perfect genetics, and always having the right amount of change to pay for things slowly morphed into more. There wasn’t one single day where the weather failed Hongjoong. No matter what clothes he decided to wear that day, he was always dressed accordingly. Seonghwa has to admit that it was a little obnoxious when quite close to christmas, Hongjoong decided to wear just a thin shirt and it ended up being the hottest day during winter ever since 1925. Fucking show off.

But Seonghwa couldn’t be annoyed, not really. He was happy that at least there was no way his sloppy friend would ever be able to catch a cold.

Sloppy, distracted, a bit mean and even lazy, if Seonghwa thinks about it hard enough. Because Hongjoong was as lucky as he was lazy in school. He somehow always managed to do more than well, despite his half-assed attempts at passing classes. It wasn’t like he didn’t have help, of course. It’s easy to pass classes when the days you forget to do an assignment, the teacher mysteriously doesn’t show up, or forgets about them. Seonghwa still remembers the day Hongjoong showed up for an exam completely unprepared, and the fire alarm sounded just before they could grab their pens and start.

Seonghwa had frowned at him for an hour afterwards, blaming him for taking away what he was sure was going to be a perfect score for him (because, unlike others, Seonghwa did take school very seriously)

It came to no surprise when Hongjoong announced that he would pursue music after high school, and applied for the exact same arts university Seonghwa had been dreaming about ever since middle school. Seonghwa hadn’t known true joy up until that day, he’s sure.

It was well known that Hongjoong was a music lover.

The boy would very often show up to school after having pulled an all nighter, eyes red and prominent dark circles decorating his otherwise perfect face. When some daring soul gathered the courage to approach a moody Hongjoong and ask him what he had been up too, the boy would glare and grunt a little “Composing” before burying his face in his arms and fall asleep. Seonghwa disapproved.

Naturally, those days were spent watching educational videos, films, because the teachers said so, and so Hongjoong could nap. Because he was lucky like that.

...

Seonghwa knew ‘luck’ didn’t begin to cover it when he introduced Hongjoong to his baby nephew.

The baby was barely a few months old and Seonghwa was tasked with babysitting for an hour, until their parents came back from an appointment. Needless to say, he was beyond terrified, and Hongjoong, sweet, sweet Hongjoong was the first person that came to mind when he realized he’d need help.

The poor child would not stop crying, clearly uncomfortable with Seonghwa’s firm chest, way too strong arms, his awkward singing and his total lack of baby comprehension. It wasn’t until Hongjoong showed up, all smiles and sunshine, that the baby immediately stopped crying, soothed, just by the sound of his voice. He then spent the entire hour in Hongjoong’s arms, sleeping while he hummed the baby a song.

It was otherworldly.

It did not take long for Seonghwa to realize that it wasn’t just his nephew who would calm down just by being around him. Children adored Hongjoong. Babies would stop weeping at the sound of his voice, they would laugh and make grabby hands at him with a single of his smiles, and the older ones would shamelessly tug him along to play and call him things like “handsome”, or “prince”. Needless to say, Hongjoong was always delighted, and Seonghwa couldn’t even consider being jealous, not with the pretty sight that his friend was playing with children, cooing over babies.

But of course, it was far from just children.

Animals also loved Hongjoong. Any dog passing them by the street would tug on their leash just to smell him and get a head rub from him. Any unfriendly cat would turn into a ball of pure fluff and sunshine if Hongjoong was in the room, being so bold as to shamelessly sit on his lap, his head, climb onto his shoulders and tangle between his legs.

Seonghwa absolutely refused to go to the zoo with Hongjoong, afraid to see what would happen.

The day he realized children, babies and animals didn’t just love him, but completely projected Hongjoong’s mood, Seonghwa knew things were getting out of hand.

It was a sunny day, and they were in their senior year, but Hongjoong was more than frustrated with the lyrics of a song he refused to let Seonghwa as much as see, because his productions were strictly kept to himself. The both of them were in a park, far away from the crowd to be bothered by it, but still close enough for it to feel like a company. But people weren’t their only company.

As per usual, birds had started flying close to them, resting on the trees that were the closest to Hongjoong. Sometimes, Seonghwa would observe them warily, but they rarely did anything at all besides… well, lurk. And love Hongjoong apparently (Seonghwa wondered if one could feel jealous of birds). But this time, it was different. His friend’s little frown was deepening by the minute, lip bitten raw and the birds were completely restless, moving around and squealing, chirping and tweeting until Seonghwa’s ears were close to ringing.

He hastily took his leave, offering Hongjoong no explanation, as he ran home, up the stairs into his room and got under the covers, wondering just what on earth was going on.

If his best friend minded, he didn’t say a thing, mood back to normal the next day.

By then, Seonghwa had more than a few theories that explained Hongjoong’s … everything.

They raged from witchiness and angels to aliens, to perhaps, possibly, real life disney male princess. Because disney princes couldn’t do quite what Hongjoong could, to be fair.

But none of them really fit, and Seonghwa was once again left wondering if he was imagining the whole thing.

He has to admit though, that having such a lucky friend came in handy sometimes. Broken devices just weren’t broken anymore when Hongjoong touched them. (It’s dead. Is it really? Yes it will not turn on, it’s been on and off for days. Let me see- no, I’m telling you it doesn’t- oh.) Or like the time they moved in together for university, and the cheap, yet beautiful apartment they both wanted was suddenly vacant, and taking applications just in time for the new semester.

Moving together was... easy. Because everything with a happy Hongjoong was easy. And he was, extremely happy. In fact, Seonghwa was sure he had never seen Hongjoong quite as happy as he was then, moving in with him. It filled him with pride and joy.

But ever since high school, the little bug at the back of his head whispering that he was not good enough for such a perfect, magical boy persisted, and he kept his feelings at bay, happy to just be friends with possibly the one true love of his life.

Hongjoong didn’t seem to care about dating anyways, too focused on his classes, and his music and one too many clubs to have time for it - or so he would say.

The little bug grew bigger and bigger when he realized Hongjoong’s huge popularity in high school was just the same - if not bigger- in university. He just seemed to attract people simply by breathing, and Seonghwa really couldn’t blame them.

There were days that were particularly hard, like that one time Hongjoong went away for a week and asked Seonghwa to take care of his plants. But Seonghwa was stressed with exams that were still too far away, and practising his dancing moves until way too late, and frankly, he had never been good at taking care of beings who didn’t ask for nutrition one way or another. And so he ended -inevitably- killing them.

The sight of those little brown barren plants haunted him for a whole day.He was beyond horrified, and once Hongjoong finally came back, he apologized over and over again, only for Hongjoong to check the damage in their balcony and laugh at him.

“What are you saying, they’re fine! This one could use a bit of water though.” He merely stated, leaving Seonghwa dumbfounded as he warily walked to the balcony only to find them all revived, green and moist and very much alive, as if…

By magic.

Of course.

Seonghwa’s stress over the whole ordeal turned into hysterical laughter, until Hongjoong made him a tea, and he finally, finally calmed down.

There are days, even now, where Seonghwa still doesn’t know what is real and what’s his imagination, mind desperately looking for more things that prove that he isn’t inventing this all, and that he doesn’t belong in a psychiatric ward.

It’s the days where he feels a tension headache and Hongjoong, sweet Hongjoong gently touches his forehead to feel his temperature, and his headache immediately goes away, faded to the warmth of the other’s fingers. Or the days where he’s too stressed to function, because just like Hongjoong, he’s way too hard on himself, and the only thing that calms him down is Hongjoong’s voice, his proximity, drinking one of his teas because, apparently, no magic in the world can turn him into a decent cook. Or a clean roommate. Still, somehow their apartment always smells like recently baked lemon cookies, just like Hongjoong’s parents’ house used to before he moved. He always smells good too. In fact, Seonghwa has never even seen his roommate sweat. Not even in P.E.

When he’s doubting himself too much, then, that restless night sometimes replays in Seonghwa’s head. That night where Hongjoong got home late, shoulders hanging and body trembling. Seonghwa was beside him in an instant, holding him close, asking what was wrong, softly, until Hongjoong -whose feelings were more often than not bottled up until he felt breathless- could finally speak. My grandma passed away, he managed to whisper through trembling lips, and Seonghwa held him tighter still.

As he cried, and Seonghwa cried with him, he could see through the blurriness the dripping on the wall, on the table in their kitchen, the way little grey drops slid down their grey coloured cupboards, and how their pans and pots started fading, melting like ice cubes, little by little dripping down to nothing. Hongjoong cried in his arms, wetting Seonghwa’s shirt.

It was beyond a strange experience, and the next day, after waking up with Hongjoong cuddled up to him in his bed, the images were blurry, and there was no trace of melting pans, of melted metal, of melted wood, or china.

Yet until this day Seonghwa is sure that just like he cried along Hongjoong, that night, their apartment cried as well.

The funeral was later that week, and the sky had never been so dark, nor the plants so lifeless, nor Seonghwa’s heart so empty.

That day, after feeling Hongjoong’s pain, Seonghwa decided there was not a single thing he would not do to keep him away from harm and pain. Hongjoong had trusted him in a highly vulnerable moment, and Seonghwa owed him at least some of that back.

So he would confess, he decided, and somehow didn’t tremble at the mere idea of it. Because if Hongjoong trusted Seonghwa like that, it could only mean that he loved Seonghwa enough for their friendship to withstand unrequited love.

Or so he expected.

He waited a few weeks of course, waited for exams to be over, and then for their second year to end, just in case they needed the summer to be apart and gather their thoughts and feelings away from each other.

Seonghwa still remembers how strangely calm he was about everything, like absolutely surrendered to whatever fate awaited him. He remembers calling his mother, asking for a recipe, making sure all was spotless. He remembers the way he would look at himself in the mirror, feeling more determined than ever, yet numb, as he fixed his hair, fixed his outfit.

When Hongjoong finally came home from a late night in the studio - a little internship he’d gotten by pure luck, go figure- it was with a bouquet of the most beautiful flowers Seonghwa had ever seen, and stared wide eyed at Seonghwa, then at the elegantly set table, the candles, and finally, started laughing.

“Is this for me?” Hongjoong asked, utterly mesmerized with the way everything looked.

“Yes.” He nodded, body shaking a little and eyeing the bouquet with a dry mouth.

“These are for you.” Hongjoong replied, and stretched his arms towards him, eyes hopeful and so full of pure, warm happiness, Seonghwa still closes his eyes sometimes and pictures him, engraved in his memory forever.

There are no words to describe what he felt that night, and there were little to no words between them either as they tried to somehow make up for what they had missed all those years.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Seonghwa remembers being asked the next morning, between kisses that tasted nothing like morning breath, but all like mint and sweetness, for reasons he doesn’t want nor cares to understand.

“I didn’t dare.” Seonghwa whispered back, sweetly rubbing his nose against a perfectly smooth cheek. “I didn’t know how.”

“I’ve loved you all these years. I wrote songs about you.” Hongjoong confessed, pink in the cheeks. “I felt so miserable, like I was the unluckiest person in the world to fall in love with my best friend. I thought you found me weird.”

That day Seonghwa learnt a lot about Hongjoong, and so did Hongjoong about Seonghwa.

Hongjoong finally allowed Seonghwa to listen to some of his music, slipping his headphones on him with such gentleness that made him blush for some reason, earnestly looking at him with puppy eyes as he finally pressed play on his phone, finally opening his heart to him.

Because with every song, every beat, every chord, Hongjoong’s sweet voice guiding him through his love, Seonghwa could feel everything Hongjoong had once felt.

“I was mad at you this day, you left me at the park.” Hongjoong explained, before a new song played and Seonghwa could feel all the rage suddenly cursing in his body, annoyed, almost violent, slightly betrayed, and very, very insecure.

“This one was when I met you.”

“This after that day you made fun of me for being short”

“I wrote this song when you fell asleep on my lap in senior year.”

“This was for the first night you slept over.”

“This is actually my favourite, I wrote it when I got accepted here and knew we’d be together.”

Hongjoong showed him all, walked him from anger to sadness to hope and desire, and finally to pure elation.

He ended up crying that day, sure that his heart would burst from so much love.

And Hongjoong didn’t say anything but Seonghwa knows that up until this day he understands.

Because just like Seonghwa, Hongjoong pretends not to notice.

“I’m so lucky.” Hongjoong will say sometimes, absentmindedly in Seonghwa’s embrace. “So lucky to be with you.” And Seonghwa will chuckle quietly, smiling to himself.

Hongjoong may be the luckiest man in the world, but Seonghwa is even more lucky still, because he has him.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.  
> Comments are always very appreciated <3  
> 


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